Chapter 15
The year following the Kyuubi attack passed with the slow, grinding pace of recovery and adaptation. Konoha, scarred but not broken, gradually stitched itself back together under Minato Namikaze's capable leadership.
Finally, the day Kasumi had promised, and Ryuu had anticipated with a mixture of eagerness and apprehension, arrived: the Academy entrance ceremony.
The morning air held the crisp promise of autumn. Kasumi dressed Ryuu meticulously, not in the heavy layers needed for sun protection during extended outdoor exposure (the ceremony and subsequent classes would be indoors or in shaded training grounds), but in simple, neat, dark trousers and a modest, high-collared tunic. Even so, she insisted on a light, wide-brimmed hat until they were well inside the Academy building.
His pale skin and white hair still drew attention, a constant reminder of his otherness.
"Remember what I told you, Ryuu," Kasumi instructed, kneeling to adjust his collar, her dark violet eyes serious. "Observe. Listen. Learn. Speak only when necessary. Control your chakra. And never..." she paused, her gaze intense, "...reveal anything beyond basic control. You are Ryuu Yuki, a refugee under the Hokage's protection. That is all they need to know."
"Yes, Kaa-san," Ryuu replied solemnly, meeting her gaze. He understood the stakes. The Academy wasn't just school, it was his first major foray into the Konoha system, his first real opportunity to gather information, assess his peers, and build the foundations for his future plans, all while maintaining absolute secrecy about his true nature and potential.
Walking towards the Academy building felt surreal. The streets were busier than usual, filled with other children around Ryuu's age, accompanied by proud, anxious, or stern-faced parents.
The air buzzed with nervous excitement and expectation. Ryuu scanned the crowd, his mind cataloging faces, clan symbols, snippets of conversation.
He saw them all, the pillars of Konoha's next generation, unknowingly stepping onto the path that would define their lives. He saw children bearing the Akimichi butterfly, already larger than their peers, clutching bags of snacks.
He saw quiet children with the Nara deer symbol, looking profoundly bored. He saw Yamanaka children with bright, expressive eyes taking in the scene. He saw Inuzuka children with canine companions trotting faithfully beside them, their wild energy barely contained.
He saw Hyuga children, instantly recognizable by their pale eyes and composed demeanor, standing slightly apart, radiating an aura of quiet superiority, often accompanied by stern-looking adults likely from the main family or senior branch members.
And then there were the Uchiha.
Several families walked together, forming a distinct, almost self-contained unit within the larger crowd. Their backs were straight, their expressions often carrying an air of cool pride, the iconic red-and-white fan symbol starkly visible on the backs of their dark clothing.
They spoke mostly amongst themselves, a subtle but noticeable separation from the other clans already evident. Ryuu watched them with particular interest, his mind sifting through fragmented knowledge of their clan's history, power, and tragic future. He noted the disciplined way even the youngest Uchiha children carried themselves, mimicking the adult hauteur.
His gaze swept over the group, cataloging faces, trying to gauge the atmosphere.
Amidst the sea of dark, neatly styled hair and proud postures, one boy caught his eye briefly. He looked about Ryuu's age, maybe slightly older, but his dark hair was shorter than most, sticking up in messy spikes, defying the usual Uchiha neatness.
He wasn't posturing or boasting like some of the others, instead, his dark eyes seemed to be taking everything in with a quiet, analytical intensity, occasionally flickering towards the periphery of the crowd or the Academy building itself. There was a different energy about him, less overt arrogance, more focused curiosity.
Ryuu mentally filed away the observation – an Uchiha who didn't quite fit the expected mold – before his attention was pulled away by Kasumi guiding him towards the entrance.
Mixed amongst the clan children were others – civilian-born hopefuls, their faces alight with determination, perhaps accompanied by parents whose pride was mixed with the clear understanding of the dangerous path their child was choosing. And then there were the orphans.
Ryuu noticed them immediately.
They stood alone or in small, tight-knit groups, their clothes often simpler, their expressions ranging from fierce defiance to quiet, watchful apprehension. They lacked the protective bubble of family, their presence a stark reminder of the village's recent trauma and the harsh realities of shinobi life.
He saw a wiry boy with calculating eyes scanning the crowd. He saw a quiet girl trying to make herself invisible near a pillar.
Kasumi guided Ryuu through the throng towards the main entrance, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder, a silent anchor in the overwhelming sensory input. The sheer number of chakra signatures, the cacophony of voices, emotions, and expectations – it was almost debilitating for Ryuu's developing senses. He forced himself to filter, to focus, compartmentalizing the flood of information.
Inside, the Academy bustled. Older students rushed through corridors, notices were pinned to bulletin boards, and instructors directed the flow of new entrants and their families towards the main assembly hall.
The air smelled of chalk dust, old wood, sweat, and the faint, metallic tang of polished weaponry from the upper-year training rooms.
They found seats near the back of the large hall. Kasumi sat stiffly beside Ryuu, her eyes constantly scanning the crowd, assessing potential threats even here, in the heart of Konoha's training institution.
Ryuu focused on observing the instructors on the stage – mostly Chunin, their faces etched with varying degrees of boredom, sternness, or forced enthusiasm. He didn't recognize them, but that was obvious, since this was before Iruka was even part of the academy.
The ceremony began with opening remarks from the Academy Commandant, a grizzled Jonin whose speech was filled with platitudes about the Will of Fire, loyalty to the Hokage, and the honor of becoming a Konoha shinobi. Ryuu listened politely, dissecting the propaganda, noting the emphasis on duty and sacrifice.
Then, Hiruzen Sarutobi, the retired Third Hokage, stepped forward to address the new students.
Despite his age, his presence still commanded respect. He spoke of the importance of knowledge, teamwork, and perseverance, his words carrying the weight of decades of experience. He didn't shy away from the dangers of the shinobi path but framed it within the context of protecting the village, the 'King'.
Ryuu found himself analyzing the Sandaime's body language, his chakra signature – steady, powerful, but carrying an underlying weariness. He was a formidable figure, but one perhaps too entrenched in tradition, too willing to compromise for perceived peace – weaknesses Ryuu knew had contributed to past tragedies.
Finally, Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, appeared on stage. A wave of hushed awe and respect rippled through the hall. Even Ryuu felt the shift in atmosphere. Minato's presence was charismatic, radiating calm confidence and barely contained power. He kept his remarks brief, welcoming the new students, emphasizing the importance of protecting their comrades and the village, and reminding them that strength came not just from jutsu, but from heart and determination.
His gaze swept across the hall, and for a fleeting moment, Ryuu felt those sharp blue eyes pass over him. There was no specific recognition, just the general assessment of a leader surveying his future forces, but the intensity was palpable. Ryuu quickly lowered his own gaze, reminding himself to appear as just another small, slightly intimidated child.
After the ceremony, the chaotic process of class assignment began. Names were called, students directed to different classrooms. Ryuu listened intently, trying to match names to faces he'd noted earlier. Finally,
"Yuki Ryuu, Class 1-B, Instructor Tamura."
He followed the flow of students towards the designated classroom, Kasumi giving him a final, meaningful look before melting back into the crowd of parents.
Class 1-B was already filling up. He recognized the sharp-eyed instructor from the stage standing imperiously at the front. He scanned the room, seeking a relatively inconspicuous seat near the back, allowing him maximum observation potential.
He saw the large Akimichi boy happily settling into a seat, already unwrapping another snack. The bored-looking Nara boy slumped into a chair near the window, seemingly ready to nap.
A girl with bright blonde hair and determined blue eyes took a seat further forward. A quiet boy with dark glasses and a high collar sat rigidly near the center – Aburame, judging by the attire. One of the pale-eyed Hyuga girls claimed a spot near the front, her posture impeccable.
The messy-haired Uchiha boy took a seat near Ryuu's chosen area, also towards the back, his gaze sweeping the room analytically. Several of the orphan children, including the wiry boy and the quiet girl, clustered together near one side.
A sturdy-looking boy with plain features sat bolt upright, clutching an introductory pamphlet.
The room buzzed with nervous chatter until the instructor slammed a piece of chalk against the board, demanding silence.
"Alright, maggots," the sharp-eyed woman began, her voice cutting through the noise instantly.
"Welcome to the Konoha Ninja Academy. Forget whatever dreams of glory brought you here. This is not a playground. This is where you learn to survive. Where you learn to kill or be killed for this village."
A nervous silence fell. Ryuu felt the collective tension spike.
"My name is Chiyo Tamura," she continued, pacing slowly, her gaze seeming to pin each student individually. "For the next few years, your pathetic lives are in my hands. I will teach you the fundamentals – Taijutsu, Ninjutsu, Genjutsu theory, tracking, stealth, weapons handling, history, strategy. Most importantly, I will teach you discipline and teamwork. Those who lack it will fail. Those who fail might as well paint a target on their backs."
Her gaze swept across them again. "Look around you. These are your comrades. Your rivals. The person sitting next to you might save your life on a mission one day, or they might be the reason you end up on the Memorial Stone. Learn to work together, even if you despise each other.
A shinobi who cannot function in a team is useless dead weight."
She stopped in front of a class roster scroll she unrolled on the desk. "We'll start with introductions. Standard procedure. Clan name first if applicable, then given name. Stand, state your name clearly, and one practical skill you already possess or are currently working hardest on. Keep it concise."
She began calling names methodically.
"Akimichi Daichi!"
The large boy stood proudly. "Akimichi Daichi! I'm working on... eating fast!" (Chuckles rippled through the room, quickly silenced by Tamura's glare). "...And the Partial Expansion Jutsu!" he added quickly.
"Aburame Toru!"
The boy with glasses stood stiffly. "Aburame Toru. Enhancing kikaichū communication range."
"Hyuga Asami!"
The pale-eyed girl rose gracefully. "Hyuga Asami. Refining basic Gentle Fist stances."
...The introductions continued. Yamanaka Saki mentioned practicing sensory awareness. Nara Ren mumbled something about "strategic energy conservation" (i.e., sleeping). Inuzuka Rina introduced herself and her small puppy, Shiro, stating they were working on coordinated tracking.
Sarutobi Haru spoke of mastering basic Fire Release katas. The civilian boy, Yori Tanaka, stated firmly he was focused on physical conditioning. The orphan Kaito simply said, "Kaito. Lock picking." drawing another glare from Tamura. The quiet girl, Yumi, whispered her name so softly Ryuu barely caught it and mentioned practicing stillness.
Then, "Uchiha Kenjiro!"
The messy-haired boy stood, his posture relaxed but alert. "Uchiha Kenjiro," he said, his voice clear and even. "Improving Shurikenjutsu accuracy at range." Practical. Skill-focused. No mention of grand Uchiha ambitions.
Finally, "Yuki Ryuu."
Ryuu stood, feeling the familiar weight of eyes focusing on his appearance. He kept his gaze level with Tamura's, projecting calm neutrality as Kasumi had instructed. "Ryuu Yuki," his voice was quiet but carried in the silent room. "Practicing chakra control." It was the truth, simple, and revealed nothing specific.
Tamura nodded curtly, her sharp eyes lingering on him perhaps a fraction longer than on others, assessing his unusual features and his carefully neutral answer. "See that you do," she commented dryly, before marking her roster and moving on.
The rest of the first day involved a brutal assessment of their current physical capabilities – running laps until they nearly dropped, basic Taijutsu drills that left many bruised and exhausted, weapon throwing accuracy tests where Ryuu performed adequately but deliberately didn't showcase extreme precision.
He observed his classmates – Kenjiro's surprising agility and pinpoint shuriken accuracy, Daichi's raw strength overwhelming smaller opponents, Asami's fluid, precise movements even in basic stances, Renji Kazama's explosive but uncontrolled speed, Sora Ishikawa's almost nonexistent physical presence but uncanny awareness of her surroundings.
During the single, short break allowed in the training yard, most students immediately gravitated towards familiar clan groups or newly formed cliques. Ryuu, following Kasumi's advice and his own inclination, found a quiet spot under the shade of a large oak tree at the edge of the yard, ostensibly stretching his aching muscles.
He saw the Uchiha boy, Kenjiro, detach himself from the main Uchiha cluster (who were critiquing each other's form with typical arrogance) and wander over, seemingly examining the bark of the oak tree near where Ryuu sat.
"Tough first day," Kenjiro commented casually, leaning against the trunk, not looking directly at Ryuu. His voice was calm, observant.
Ryuu simply nodded, stretching a leg. He offered nothing, waiting.
"Ryuu Yuki, right?" Kenjiro continued, tracing a pattern on the bark. "Heard that surname before, somewhere. Associated with... cold, wasn't it?" He glanced sideways at Ryuu, a flicker of curiosity in his dark eyes.
Ryuu met his gaze briefly, keeping his own expression neutral. "We are refugees from the northern coast of Water Country," he stated calmly, sticking to the cover story. "It is often cold there."
Kenjiro gave a noncommittal hum. "Right. Water Country." He paused. "Tamura-sensei seems... intense."
"All instructors push new students," Ryuu replied evenly.
"True," Kenjiro conceded. He pushed off the tree. "Well. Talk to you later, Ryuu." He offered a quick, almost imperceptible smirk before turning and walking back towards the main training area, leaving Ryuu alone under the tree.
Ryuu watched him go, analyzing the interaction. Kenjiro was probing, subtly, testing his reactions, referencing the Yuki association with cold (Ice Release?).
He hadn't revealed anything, hadn't risen to the bait. But Kenjiro was clearly intelligent, observant, and intrigued. Not necessarily hostile, but definitely someone to watch carefully.
As the draining first day finally drew to a close, Ryuu felt the immense mental fatigue layering over his physical aches.
Kasumi met him outside the gates, her relief palpable when she saw him emerge unscathed, if exhausted.
"How was it?" she asked, her voice low as they walked through the streets filling with evening shadows.
"Challenging," Ryuu admitted truthfully. "The instructor is strict. The training is demanding." He kept his summary factual, clinical.
Kasumi nodded. "Good. Difficulty builds strength. Remember," she added, as they neared their apartment, "competence is camouflage. Blend in. Learn. Survive."
Ryuu couldn't help but smile bitterly. He was just five… what the hell was up with this world.